


The Journey is Only Beginning

by ChromaticDreams



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode AU: s04e13 Journey's End, F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags/Characters to Be Added, Regeneration, and our friends greet not only a few new faces, but some old ones too, in which the doctor actually fully regenerates in this episode, much time travel chaos ensues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-08-24 15:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromaticDreams/pseuds/ChromaticDreams
Summary: Out of near infinite possibilities, being severely injured by a Dalek and forced to regenerate in the middle of a galactic crisis genuinely wasn't how he expected this day to go.An AU re-imagining of the series four finale where Ten actually regenerates into Eleven.(On indefinite hiatus)





	1. Regeneration

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so with three fics already on my AO3 that are currently incomplete I probably shouldn't be posting another, but I really really wanted to crosspost this. It's a bit of an older one- but I'm not gonna be making any drastically huge edits to it, unlike the other Doctor Who fic I'm in the slow process of crossposting. It's just a bit of fun, still incomplete, but I recently picked it back up, desiring a writing project I could let loose with more than most others. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> (Update: probably won't be working on this any time soon so as of now listing it as complete.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tenth Doctor regenerates in front of three very bewildered friends.

The very atmosphere in the TARDIS was taut with uncertainty.

The Doctor clenched his teeth together as he writhed on the rough metal grating, requiring the quick intervention of both Rose and Donna. Their hands desperately braced his shoulders so as to keep him from injuring himself further. But even if he were to cause further damage by thrashing around, it would do little to increase the futility of the situation. Try as he will, as he watched the scene play out in front of him like a nightmarish cutscene, powerless to enact any control over the scenario, Jack couldn't ignore the inescapable truth. Genuine fear brimmed within that man's pained expression. Despite his alien physiology, the humanity he carried within him was bubbling to the surface.

That Doctor, that beautiful man... he didn't want to die.

"What's going on?" Donna said, actively resisting Jack's pull as he tried leading her away from their friend, lying prone on the floor. 

"I told you, he's dying."

"Well, we can't just stand here!" she cried, eyes damp and reddened, and _god_ did the sight of her hysteria make him wish there was something he could do to fix all of this, some magical cure-all stored back at the Hub he could pull out of his ass to reverse all of this, to turn back the flow of time. "We need to do something! We need to help him!"

She shoved past him, her path set solely for the Doctor, but Jack caught her by the wrist. The sheer look of betrayal she hurled at him as she struggled in his grasp stung like a dagger through his chest, but he held tight. It wouldn't be safe. While he desperately wanted to help— the Doctor's stertorous breaths were becoming increasingly painful to listen to— he saw a faint glow lingering in his veins. He'd read up on the old tales of the Time Lords over the years, educated himself as much as he could, and he knew how destructive this process had the potential to be.

"No, we need to stay back! Rose, you too! Get back!"

Rose Tyler crouched by his side, blatantly ignoring his warnings in the throes of her grief. "No, please, don't die—!" Her hand quivered as she tried to mop the sweat off her Doctor's brow. "Not now, not when I just found you!" His gaze locked with hers, packed with more unspoken sentiment than Jack ever imagined could be transmitted through mere expression. She let out a keening cry at this, evidently gaining more from this single glance than anyone else ever could, and immediately pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from losing her composure entirely.  

"I- Rose," he rasped. "I- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't stop it. I'm..." He paused, sudden panic flooding across his face. "Jack," he said frantically.

He didn't— couldn't?— complete that sentence, but Jack understood. _Get Rose to a safe distance._ Heart aching at the thought of separating them but knowing it was for her own good, he vaulted across the console room to her. Though she still reached out for the Doctor in silenced desperation, she was already standing up. Oh yes. He almost forgot in all the confusion; she was the one person in this ship who'd seen this before.

Here we go," he said, leading her away from the regenerating Time Lord. "Good luck, Doctor."

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Donna begged, as the Doctor spent every last parcel of time left to pull himself to his feet.

"When he's dying, his... er, his body, it repairs itself," Rose explained. "It changes. But you can't!"

The Doctor clutched to the side of his ship's console like a lifeline, his striated breath painful to hear. "I'm sorry, it's too late. I'm regenerating!"

Then he stepped away from the console, threw back his head and arms, and was consumed by violent fire. Instinctively, Jack and the two women turned away. His arms tightened around their shoulders, fingers nearly digging into their skin. He somewhat wished he could cover his ears to dampen the whistling roar of regeneration, but he couldn't, at least not holding Rose and Donna. Was it at all taboo to watch a regeneration, he wondered? To the Time Lords? He couldn't deny he was curious, but for the first few moments he held back, as if worried the ghosts of Time Lords long passed would manifest to curse him into an eternity more hellish than the one he already intimately knew. Curiosity finally got the better of him, however, and Jack squinted so he could watch. After all, this process was something that had dissolved into legend. Few had ever witnessed this.

He could see his friend's face, almost completely obscured under rippling waves of golden energy. His mouth was contorted into a grimace, and his eyes were screwed shut. Then, startling him with sudden movement, the Doctor forced his outstretched hands together and aimed the regenerative energy at the glass receptacle containing his severed hand. The energy flowing from his hands and head began to grow thin— as if it were  _seconds_  from running out— but at the last moment he let out a sharp shout, his body wrenched upright by unconscious force.

Jack watched the moment his features morphed into another's, and to his surprise it happened as quick as a snap of the fingers.

The new man stumbled over his feet in the chaos of it all, almost colliding into the pillar. He was wide-eyed and youthful, with somewhat shaggy brown hair that almost fell like a curtain in front of his eyes. He looked down at his body in shock.

"Doctor—?" Rose hesitantly edged towards him. But if he noticed her presence, he made no visible sign of it. 

"Legs!" he proclaimed joyously instead, his unused voice cracking. "I've still got legs! Good!" As he gazed at his feet, still gasping for breath, his thin brows furrowed in thought. "Could've been worse, I suppose," he muttered.

Donna, mouth agape, lifted a solitary, accusing finger towards him. "Oh... my  _god!_ Just when I thought I knew everything about you, you go and change your face!"

"It's called regeneration," Jack offered weakly, genuinely feeling mentally drained from all he'd just witnessed. 

Without a moment of warning the Doctor hit himself on the forehead with his palm, startling his friends. "Oh, Rose! Jack, Donna! Blimey, no, no, no, no, no! This is all a-" he massaged his temples wearily- "...a huge mistake. This wasn't supposed to happen! But, there's something else, something important..."

They all stared at him blankly, waiting for him to finish.

"Am I ginger?"


	2. Ginger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor isn't ginger, and the Daleks make their next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied last chapter. About this fic not having any "big fixes." For those who read the first chapter last week, I recommend you re-read it because I rejiggered it a good deal. Going forward I'm streamlining POV and adding more updated prose. Hopefully it'll read far cleaner as a result. For those curious, I have 18K+ already written and awaiting edits.
> 
> And hoo boy, do I finally have a clear climax and ending plotted out for this... Buckle up y'all.

Donna Noble- brash, gobby Donna Noble- was not a woman rendered speechless so easily. Ask anyone in her family, or her former bosses, or that infuriating check out man she can never avoid at Tesco, or even _Nerys_. She was unflappable, absolutely unsurpassable in her courage. Whenever the world conspired against her, delivering impossible circumstances to her front door like unwanted Valentine's candy grams, she bravely faced them with a holler and a shout. Words were her safety net. Her sword. Words kept her calm, balanced. And yet, suddenly finding herself slack-jawed in the presence of a brand new man wearing her best friend's suit, this marked the second time in but a few minutes the words waiting on her tongue merely evaporated away.

"Am I ginger?" he asked, and while what she'd just payed witness to a moment ago- the Doctor's limbs consumed in fire, burning up until he was replaced with this gangly, floppy haired chap, like a phoenix- was wild beyond belief, there was no other man he could be. Only the Doctor was mad enough to scare them all half to death with a mortal injury and then bounce right back up with a grin and a bleedin' non sequitur.

If she weren't so busy being befuddled as to how all of this happened, she'd slug him for that.

"Well, am I?" he prompted again, regarding all of them in their ceaseless, wide-eyed confusion as if they'd dribbled on their shirts.

For all that she knew, in her surprise she did just that.

Sluggishly, she found her tongue again. "You're kidding me. You just transformed into a completely different person, and that's the first thing you ask?"

"It's important!"

"N-no- sorry," Rose spoke up, her arms hugging herself. "It's still all sort of... brown."

"Really? I'm not even a bit auburn?"

"No. If anything, it's gotten darker."

The Doctor's brow plummeted in heartbroken despair. He waved his hand as if he were swatting away this news of disappointment. "Well, that's rubbish. I've had brown hair for centuries now."

"Doctor," Donna began slowly, chewing her words, "why exactly do you want to be ginger, anyways?"

"Because gingers are so cool!" he enthused, a gleeful grin spread across his boyish face. "It's the rarest hair color in the universe! To be ginger, you need not just one, but two copies of the MC1R protein, one from each parent." He began to pace around the center console as he lectured, physically punctuating his sentences with a full-fingered flap and a flourish. "It's so rare that it only occurs naturally in about two percent of bipedal hair-covered creatures, and as of yet I haven't actually been lucky enough to win that genetic lottery. So far my various bodies have, together, represented every hair color except this one, and at this juncture I'm on my knees _begging_ for something different."

She squinted at him. No doubt about it, she absolutely believed this was her best friend standing before her, but she still didn't know what to make of this entire situation. It was all so weird. Sure, she'd watched a human turn into an Ood, but that was different; she didn't personally know the man. And she supposed there would always be things that she couldn't fully grasp about the Doctor's nature, him being alien. Distinctly unlike her.

One thing remained constant, however: he still talked utter nonsense at near impossible speeds. After a brief moment of reflection, she gathered her thoughts to form a suitable reply to his harebrained plight.

"Then why don't you just  _dye_ your hair ginger,you dumbo?"

"I thought about that once, but I couldn't," he said seriously, his hand balled up at his chin. "It felt like cheating."

" _Doctor,"_ Jack interrupted their mindless chitter-chatter. "You said earlier that this wasn't supposed to happen? What'd you mean?"

His smile quickly evaporated, dragging most— if not all— of his post regenerative insanity with it. He almost seemed somber now as he slumped into the jump seat. The three of them surrounded him in support.

"I was trying to stop the energy from going all the way," he said, wearily rubbing his temples. "I thought if I could use just enough to heal myself, I could siphon the rest off into my severed hand, and-"

Rose pointed at the glass and metal container sitting at the foot of the console. "And that hand, is that your-?" Donna followed her finger as she spoke, making note of the limp hand suspended inside, cocooned by a bubbly liquid still glowing with an aura of gold. 

"My severed hand, from the sword fight on Christmas Day?" the Doctor completed. Her head bobbed down, once. "That's the one. I thought, siphon the excess into a convenient bio receptacle, then, with a pinch of luck, maybe I wouldn't change. Guess I was too late."

Donna rest her hand on his shoulder as she saw his expression sour with a dash of... oh, what would that sort of complex emotion be called? Existential panic? Nevertheless, she could tell he was drowning in a maelstrom of 'what-ifs' at the moment, and if there was one thing she'd recently learned not to tangle with, it was a big 'what-if.' She glanced from Jack, leaning like a show boy against one of the coral struts, to Rose— flanking the Doctor's other side, her eyes still tear-stained and hollow— and finally, back at him. Dealing with strong emotions was never his strong suit, was it?

"You're alive, at least." 

The Doctor's lips turned up a trace as he looked at her, but it was clearly a forced smile. A pained smile. "Yeah... Yeah, I am. True." 

"And I'm _so_ thankful for that."

* * *

All the lights in the TARDIS switched off with a dull hum as the conversation lulled. The Doctor's gaze snapped up to check on the time rotor's state. What was wrong? Was it because of the regeneration? She never did like it much when he regenerated in here, poor girl. But seeing its soothing cyan glow dim alongside the rest of the lights, his hearts stuttered. No. No, not now, please not-

No no no no-!" he shouted, launching himself out of the jump seat. He skid across the grated floor panels, almost tripping over these new, unfamiliar feet as he crossed towards the console. Quick manipulation of the materialization lever and a few other choice dials told him everything he needed to know, confirmed each fear festering within his mind. "It's the Daleks! They've found us, and shut off all our systems, like a sort of... chronon loop!"

"Well, what can we do?" Donna asked, a spike of trepidation making her go rigid.

Immediately after she spoke, the entire TARDIS jolted. Everyone reached for the first stable handhold they could find, Rose and Jack wrapping their arms around one of the coral pillars. The ship continued to rock for a few seconds before leveling out. Even so, he had a sinking suspicion they were still in motion. He probably wouldn't have had a chance in Skaro's tombs at sensing such negligible movement on a normal day. Considering this, he was actually lucky to have recently regenerated. It was well documented that the Time Lord nervous system switched into overdrive within the fifteen hours after, with every sense heightened to perfection as means of defense. An evolutionary advantage, if often times an inconvenient one. (Heightened touch and sight and hearing was all fine and dandy, but smell? His keen awareness of others' timelines? Such excessive input of information after regeneration's already ample shock was enough to leave him disorientated and a bit giddy, and he generally spent the majority of his energy during this stage in smothering those more disruptive senses.)

However, what these stimuli were telling him now— the buzz of electric energy from the Daleks' chronon loop riding along his skin, the sickeningly sterile scent of Dalekanium, and the stable, continuous vibrations of his ship in motion shooting dart-like through his bones— was that Davros was pulling them out of Earth's atmosphere and to their base at the center of the 27 planets.

Jack leaned back on one of the pillars, visible worry creasing his brow. "Well, assuming there's no avoiding a confrontation now, what do you suggest? Doctor?"

Despite the grim circumstances, he couldn't keep his smile at bay. 

_Doctor._

After his last go, the fact that his friends were referring to him as Doctor already was quite comforting. 

"Well," he said, and reached to flick a long strand of hair out of his eyes with a degree of annoyance, "if the Daleks are transporting us somewhere, then we certainly can't decline their invitation, now can we?"

"There's a massive Dalek ship at the centre of the planets. They're calling it the Crucible. Guess that's our destination."

"Now... You said these planets were like an engine, at the Shadow Proclamation," Donna said. "But what for?"

Almost organically, all three of them turned to Rose, who stood at the far edge of the group and hadn't spoken up in a while. Her skin looked ashen, and her cheeks were damp. The shadows below her eyes were pronounced, and it was obvious that she was actively resisting tears. _His fault,_ he tried not to remind himself.

"Rose?" he asked, taking a few cautious steps towards her. Her face softened at his attention, but even still her features were frosted in a web of sorrow. "Can you tell us what it was like in Pete's World? It's set a few years beyond ours. What's out there?"

She swallowed, and after a pregnant pause, spoke. "It's... the darkness."

"The stars were going out," Donna added.

"One by one," she continued, her shaky voice strengthening. "We looked up at the sky and they were just dying. Basically, we've been building this travel machine, this... dimension cannon, so I- I could come back. Anyway, suddenly, it started to work and the dimensions started to collapse. Not just in our world, not just in yours, but the whole of reality. Even the Void was dead!"

The Doctor met her reddened eyes, his focus wavering as all of Rose Tyler's potential timelines spooled out before him like unraveled ribbons. All of them. Every heartbeat and every daydream, every triumph and every tragedy, from the time of birth to the occasion of her— _No!_ He slammed a door in his mind, pushing his heightened time sense into submission. It left him quite dizzy. All he wanted to focus on right now was _this_ Rose, and this Rose's voice carried so much fear. Palpable. He was sure the others felt the clear shift in atmosphere as well.

"Something is destroying everything," she stated resolutely.

Donna shifted. "In that parallel world, you said something about me?" 

"The dimension cannon could measure timelines, and it's- it's weird, Donna, but they all seemed to converge on you."

"But why me? I mean, what have I ever done? I'm a  _temp_  from  _Chiswick!"_

The scanner's alarm sliced through the relative silence of the ship, ringing uncomfortably in the drum of his ears and only serving to worsen his growing headache. It was a relative silence because their attempts at discussion were successfully staving off how truly vacant the TARDIS would feel otherwise. In truth, he never stopped to appreciate how soothing his Old Girl's hum was until it stopped. Now, why was that?

"Well then," he said, attempting to mask his dizziness by leaning his arms on the console in the most casual manner he could portray. "I guess this means we're about to have a- a little tryst with... with the Da-"

His words caught in his throat, exhaustion rippling through him like tidal waves as his vision grew momentarily dark. Returning to awareness, he discovered himself being lead towards the jump seat by all three friends. Within, his double pulse raced rampant. Did... did he nearly pass out? No, no, he couldn't—

A uncomfortable tickle ran up the back of his throat. He involuntarily arched his back into the sturdy cushion, and coughed up a sum of excess regenerative energy, the portion expelled out of his blood stream and through his lungs after all cells had been properly repaired and replaced. It floated towards the upper atrium of the TARDIS in swirling, dainty tendrils. Jack, Rose, and Donna all watched soberly as it eventually dissipated in midair.

"I can't go out there," he realized, the blinding truth of the matter impacting him like a boot to the face. "I- I can't leave the TARDIS."

"Why not?"

"Because? Because, if they got their hands on me in the state I'm in right now, they'd have disastrous power! Rose," he said, loosely grasping her arm like a lifeline as he felt his hold on consciousness weakening. "It's like the pilot fish. Remember those pilot fish? Listen, you can't let them find me in here! I'll try to shield myself, but that's no guarantee that- that..."

Just before he blacked out and his left heart stopped beating, the last five or so minutes of his memory replayed at rapid. Every decision, every footstep, every word. Briefly, he wondered what might have been, every turn or flip of the dial in time's enigmatic design. Every possibility, an infinitude of them.

But mostly, he wondered where he'd gotten it wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "wouldn't have a chance in Skaro's tombs" = "wouldn't have a chance in hell"  
> I bet the Gallifreyans had all sorts of unique idioms like this, and I think it's fun to play around with showing some of the Doctor's native culture bleeding through even after all of these years.
> 
> All kudos and comments greatly appreciated, and feed this frazzled college student's motivation. <3


	3. Rythym

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's facade crumples under pressure. Donna hears a lone heartbeat. The trio prepares to exit the TARDIS.

"Listen, you can't let them find me in here!" the Doctor urged, his grip on her arm quickly slacking. "I'll try to shield myself, but that's no guarantee that- that..."

His mouth bobbed ajar, still trying to weave thoughts into halfway coherent sentences, but it was clear with his heavily labored breath that he was in no state to speak. In fact, Rose knew precisely what was happening. She'd lived through this nightmare before. His regeneration took such a toll on his system that his body was shutting down to recharge, at the worst possible moment in their lives: when all of creation was at stake. Quivering, her fingers sought out his own, lacing between them. A wordless promise and a plea.

_I'm still here._

_Please, don't let go._

"Doctor? Doctor!" Jack said, gently shaking the Time Lord's shoulder. "Try to stay awake! Fight it!"

"What's wrong with him now?" Donna asked, hovering between her and the two men.

Rose watched, helpless, as he wildly scoured the console room with the desperate intensity of a dying man. The glassy, distant look in his eyes spoke volumes. They locked with hers, widening as if transmitting some sort of urgent message she was supposed to intrinsically understand. His hand dropped from hers as his head lulled forward into the murky throes of unconsciousness.

Her palms grew clammy at the realization that they were on their own now. Alone, with no plan, and no backup against the entire might of the Dalek empire. If she possessed even a vague inkling as to how to deal with this, maybe she could pull up a fearless facade. Offer reassurance. Improvise her way to a victory. The others were looking at her for leadership in lieu of the Doctor, she knew they were. Their gaze practically bored into her, through hardened layers of age old insecurity she genuinely didn't know still lingered until now. The universe needed genius, a strategist, hearts filled with ceaseless courage.

But she was no Doctor.

She was only Rose.

Human, woefully unprepared, and afraid. So terribly afraid. 

The red haired woman she'd only recently met brushed the fringe out of his face. "Doctor?" she whispered shakily. Tears built up at the corners of her eyes, glistening like star systems reflected in the watery deep, and with what Rose knew about the tenacious, brave Donna Noble, the fact that  _she'd_ been knocked to the edge of her wits almost shook her more than the regeneration itself. She rest her ear to his chest. "Oh god, no..."

Jack paled. "Is he alive?" 

She looked up, and the grim expression pulled taut across her lips was all they needed in answer. "One heart is beating. Onlyone."

"Unconscious healing state?" Rose suggested with a half hearted shrug. She hugged her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill settle over the TARDIS in the Doctor's absence, or perhaps due to whatever chronon thing the Daleks had ensnared the ship in. Not like she'd know the difference. "But he poured a ton of his regeneration energy into that hand, so that's bound to have some effect."

"And I'm assuming that's not something he, uh, normally does?"

"No," she shook her head at her. "The first time this- this _happened_ , the first one I saw, he just stood upright. Didn't even try to avoid it. I have no idea how this'll change things."

"But you're still the one with most firsthand experience out of all of us," Jack said. "Surely there might be something-"

"Fine, yes," she snapped, the muscles in her hands visibly tight as she gesticulated, a trait she couldn't help but note she'd picked up from the Doctor. "Yes, yes, so you're right! I've been through all of this before, but last time he changed he was burning with a fever for hours, and nothing me, or my mum, or Mickey, or anyone thought to do could drag him out of that, okay, so if you're looking to me for some sort of miracle or whatever, don't. I _don't know_ what to do!"

The TARDIS became eerily silent with that grim revelation. Rose turned away and crumpled, dropping her head between her arms and letting the console support her weight. Her chest shuddered as she sighed, allowed the knots constricting her from within to unwind, just a little. She dared not move for a good long time, not wanting to confirm whether her friends were still staring at her in misplaced pity or if their gaze had long since drifted away. She didn't know which she'd consider worse. Her tongue, stiff and heavy in all the emotion entangled within her, began to move, transmitting her innermost thoughts into audible word, tiny and strained.

"There's just... not enough time."

Jack quickly glanced between Donna and her, catching their eyes. He thumbed at his coat pockets, with the edge of a frayed hemline there.

"Well. Time or not, we should make our move quickly. We either have to escape or step out there."

Donna raised her hand. "Personally, my vote's on escape."

"Do you still have your dimension jump?" he asked, placing a hand on Rose's shoulder.

"It needs another twenty minutes. Can’t use it."

"What about the TARDIS, though?" Donna said. "Locked doors, shielding, I mean it is Time Lord technology. The Doctor always said this place was impenetrable. Wouldn't we be safe in here? At least for a while longer?"

"In any other scenario, yes, probably. But they're  _Daleks_ ," Rose said, her subconscious calling up all sorts of terrible memories and nightmares at their very name. "Do we really want to take that chance?" She scrunched her lip up to her nose as she thought. Clasping her hands together, she turned to Jack. "What about you? You teleported to us. Vortex manipulator?"

"Went down with the power loss. Sorry, Rosie."

The briefest of a smile flickered over her lips at the familiar old nickname only he used. "Okay," she breathed, trying to retain her wits among the stress, though the worry was obvious in her stiff body language. "I think our best bet is outside, then. Better to exit on our own terms than by force."

"We'll have to leave the Doctor behind."

"As much as I hate to say it, I think that's safer. He's unconscious, and he said giving them access to a recently regenerated Time Lord was dangerous anyways."

Her friend nodded in agreement, and immediately moved to pick up the gun he'd brought on the ship and laid on the metal grating, the one he used to shoot the Dalek down. Rose held up a hand, signaling his pause.

"Uh- I'd leave your gun here, if I were you. God knows Dalek rule on Earth is strict enough. Here, they'd probably shoot us on sight. Remember, without the Doctor, out there we're dispensable."

"That's what they think," he muttered under his breath. He pressed a kiss to the barrel of his prized blaster, and placed it back on the floor with a dramatic sigh.

The three leveled their attention to the doors, and to the intimidating battle cries of the Daleks growing more fervent in the far distance.

* * *

Donna followed directly behind Jack and Rose, and yet distant all the same. Her steps were sure, (for now), but her mind felt... clouded. Fuzzy, like static. She wouldn't be at all surprised if she woke up the next morning to find the events of this day almost entirely missing, like a repeat of last New Year's, when her girlfriends convinced her to join them in hopping from pub to pub in a wild misadventure that ended with the distant drunk memory of sobbing over absolutely nothing on the loo in Nando's, a half-eaten kebab still clutched in her hand. At least her friends seemed as unsure about their actions as she was.

She'd tried at least, to pay attention, she really did. But halfway through their "what now" discussion, this pulsing, almost hypnotizing beat assaulted her mind, squeezing out any and all capacity for focused thought:

_Thu-thump... thu-thump... thu-thump..._

It was a single heartbeat.

If she dared focus too long on anything otherwise, or— heaven forbid— attempt to scry the true nature of this pounding in her head, the beat pulverized the nebulous thought into mere scattered impulses. It was fine, though. She was fine, she was- she only had to not think about anything too hard and the headache beginning to pulse behind her temples would eventually fade away. Probably. It was only worry about the Doctor and his missing heartbeat. 

But it couldn't be that simple, because this also happened before everything fell to pieces, back at the Shadow Procla—

The static resumed with a vengeance, pulsing neuron to neuron. The dull ache radiated through her jaw, commanding her to full silence.

In front of her, Rose and Jack opened the wooden doors and slowly advanced out. She took in the full horror of the Dalek empire from just inside the one safe place in the universe she had left, her roving eyes never pausing to focus on any one golden drone. They were spread throughout the air like a raging disease, only living to hover in uninterrupted rhythm from one post to the next.

"Daleks reign supreme. All hail the Daleks!" a large red Dalek suspended on a pedestal prompted. The other Daleks quickly took up the ominous chant.

"Daleks reign supreme. All hail the Daleks! Daleks reign supreme. All hail the Daleks!"

The magnitude of their roar was immense, and her gut churned at the mere concept of how many tinny voices it took to produce a racket that loud. Before her foot could lift from the ground to step out of the ship, the heartbeat's pace quickened in her ears, downing out the Daleks entirely. It pinned her to the metal grating like a butterfly to a board. Her mouth ran dry.

Helpless to call attention to her plight, Donna's sights locked on the monstrosities laid out before them, tethered by a force unknown. 

_Thu-thump... thu-thump... thu-thump... thu-thump..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entering the heart of the Dalek empire without the Doctor... What could go wrong? How will Rose hold together realizing that they're the only ones standing between the Daleks and all of creation?
> 
> Events haven't quite diverged too much yet, but they will very soon. I just really enjoy taking these moments to establish where our characters are currently, their mental headspace.
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated!


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